Florence Scovel Shinn passed away in 1940, but before she did, she wrote some of the most transformational books. Her books formed a strong base for today's life coaching.
Her writing was recommended to me and so I bought 'The Wisdom of
Florence.' It was explained to me that she was very 'Gody' in her writing -
there were a lot of biblical references, but that they were a solid practice and contained manifestation principles for abundance, health and more.
I read it, and loved it. And took it to Australia when I travelled with my friend Mollie a couple of years ago.
We were shopping in Melbourne.
It's fair to say we helped out the Melbourne economy and they would probably love to have us back.
During an 'attack of the shopping guilts' on the fourth (and last day) we were there, I decided to meditate to 'ease my troubled mind.' It was morning, and as our body clocks were on kiwi time, we had an extra couple of hours to fill before the shops opened.
I decided to bathe in the energy of Florence's book, and put it on my chest while
My 'bridge over troubled water' showed up and I had a vision of a very radiant Christ, holding his arms out wide, who said to me "Adorn Yourself."
Startled because that was not my usual thing at all, I turned to Mollie and told her what had just happened and she immediately said "There you go - Jesus Christ says you
should keep shopping!"
All I could think of was going back to jewellery shop that I had bought a couple of things in, there was a cross that I loved there.
We arrived and I went to the cabinet. It was still there and as I looked at it, the owner came to my side. I told him I might buy it and gift it to someone, as I couldn't stop thinking about it.
He looked at me a bit funny and said "No, it's yours, it's for you."
I told him I had already been shopping and bought all sorts of things, so couldn't buy it for myself. He said "No - it's yours, I'm giving it to you."
I stood there for a minute, not comprehending that he would do such a thing, but sure enough, he meant it. It was AUD$80. A heck of a gift from a stranger, but he insisted.
I came away from his shop shaking my head, wearing it, and it has been a constant source of support for my work ever since.
Later I realised that a woman had come into my shop about a year prior to our trip, and had drawn a picture of it for me, saying that when I got bogged down with life and forgot who I was, I was to remember that I was the cross that was 'shaped like this.'
(Sometimes I have met spiritual people and wondered where on earth they got their ideas from, and although her words were kind, they were a bit weird, so I had disregarded them)
It was an amazing experience that continued to unfold though, as I used it in a healing - my friend was in hospital and when I showed it to her, she asked me if I got it in a little alley in Melbourne, in a little shop, and described the shop exactly. I confirmed that I did, very surprised, and she said she was there two weeks earlier with her son, who wanted to buy it for her, but that she had told him it wasn't for her - someone else would come along soon and get it.
She had lent me a book by Kathleen McGowan about Christ and Mary Magdalene and in it there was a story of a lady who was gifted a very antique ring that symbolised Mary in a shop.
I read it just before I went to Melbourne.
Still shaking my head about the whole thing, it felt like a weird dream, and to be honest, with the work I do every day, creating, or being a part of miracles for people, it's pretty much on going.
We all have the capacity to create miracles and now and then, when I forget that what I do makes a difference, I try to remember that the gift of that ability is a miracle in itself.
Sarah MacLachlan sings 'it's not that unusual, when everything is beautiful - it's just another ordinary miracle today.'
I know my kind of ordinary sounds extraordinary to others, but it's only the surface.
If the seemingly impossible is possible - and I constantly see that it is...
What else is actually possible?
To look at life with awesome wonder is the least I can do.